


Tides Will Bring Me Back to You

by HeartOfBellarke



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Clarke rescues Bellamy from Mount Weather, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-08 20:21:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3222179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartOfBellarke/pseuds/HeartOfBellarke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the ice encasing Clarke's heart melts. (Or in which Clarke realizes love isn't weakness)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tides Will Bring Me Back to You

**Author's Note:**

> Partially a reward for reaching 1.8k followers on Tumblr (heartofbellarke). So...I wrote a thing. Please don't hate me for writing the thing. Also, not edited because I'm lazy.

There were metal swords clashing with metal guns, metal bullets colliding with metal walls or with the occasional flesh of one whose skin was certainly not impenetrable. Then there were the metal bars currently caging the victim of her metal encased heart. She shook them, gripped the cold iron with white tightened knuckles and whispered his name.

 _Bellamy_. It came out weaker than she wanted it to, but she thinks he hears her nonetheless. She watches as his eyes flutter open, watches as his curled up form stirs from it’s place in the cage’s cold corner.

His eyes, they once glistened with a determined fire, but as they met her gaze she realized that fire had been extinguished. They now look hesitant, like the cursed Mountain Men had drained the life from his brown irises like they drained blood from Grounders. Recognition settles into his features then, and she prays he doesn’t think less of her for saying the four words that lead him to his torturous fate.

 _It’s worth the risk._ No, it isn’t.

She didn’t mean it, any of it. The cold ice gripping her heart must have made it’s way upward through her veins, first freezing over her once compassionate gaze and then implanting itself inside her brain; the one thought that wouldn’t thaw from her mind.

_I was being weak._

There was nothing she could do to avoid it. She thought sending Bellamy away to Mount Weather would prove that she didn't feel anything for him. It almost seemed like a selfish reason, and the worst part was that it didn't even work. The moment his voice turned to static on Raven’s radio, the metal around her heart melted, and the agonizing feeling of hot bubbling iron coursing through her veins took place as a consequence.

 _Love is weakness._ Yes, it is.

She felt the weakness in her hands, as she fumbled with the lock on the cage door. She held the stolen key, it was right between her fingertips, but the constant shivers rippling through her arms made it impossible to fit the key into it's hole.

 _Clarke_. 

Bellamy had probably said her name a million times over, but she didn't hear him until he slipped his arm through the bars and grasped her trembling hand in his. His lips were still moving, but the only thing she could focus on was the desperation on his face and the clamminess of his fingers as they steadied her own. Had she done this to him? Was it her fault that he was now weak and gaunt and locked up under the paled hands of the Mountain Men?

 _No_. Bellamy wasn't weak.

Even at his worse, he was the one motivating her to get her shit together, and she hated herself for it. She'd be damned if she was going to sit there and let her self mope in what was mostly self pity while her friend (she hopes she can still call him that after what she did) was pressed tight in a metal box. 

_Click._

The cage door was finally flung open, a loud bang resonating through the tinted room as it protested against it's hinges. She gently pulled him out of the cage and onto his feet, not bothering to hide the wetness of her cheeks as he clung to her for dear life. No, she wasn't being over dramatic. If she couldn't get them out of here soon, they both would die. Then again, there are worse things than death, she thinks, and Bellamy was a perfect example.

 _I'm going to get you out of here._ He didn't say anything back.

She half expected him to come up with some sarcastic quip (it's about time, Princess) yet is unsettled by his sudden silence. She could blame it on the fact that standing seemed to require every ounce of his already depleted energy, and even with her help his feet still dragged as they made their way towards the door.

_Blood must have blood._

Clarke was not surprised to find the hallway coated in different shades of red. Dark for the dead and bright for the dying. The remaining Grounders stood triumphantly over the stained bodies of the Mountain Men whose white uniforms had long since turned pink. She reluctantly allowed two of the warriors to take Bellamy from her grasp, wanting nothing more than to never let go oh his arm, to keep him safe.

 _Do you have faith in him?_ Oh, she had enough faith to make him godly.

As she looked at the Commander now, she was weary to find that her stony eyes were locked upon the dried tear stains upon her cheeks. It wasn't like Clarke cared anymore. She simply nodded at Lexa as she brushed past, her gaze set on Bellamy's back and turned to steel much like the pistol in her hands. 

_Let's move._

Lexa could not understand the shift that had taken place within the once icy Sky leader in those recent minutes. She couldn't understand how her heart had melted so quickly, yet her expression was still one of cold stone. She couldn't understand how the rescue of the shaggy haired rebel could weaken her yet steady her at the same time. She couldn't understand because love wasn't just weakness.

_It was also strength._


End file.
